


That Odd Mulled Wine

by livingforazirowley



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alcohol, And probably some special spices, Angst, Author tries being funny, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Tree, Happy Ending, Holidays, Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Mulled wine, Winter, but not a lot of angst, ineffable husbands, kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:00:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22015277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livingforazirowley/pseuds/livingforazirowley
Summary: Crowley buys a bottle of mulled wine from a weird lady. Drunk shenanigans ensue but Crowley gets hurt and Aziraphale has to do something about it.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 67





	1. Chapter 1

“Ugh, it’s freezing cold out there,” Crowley said as he entered the bookshop. He shook the loose snowflakes off his shoulders. Weather forecasts anticipated a long, cold, snowy day ahead and, for once, it looked like they had gotten it right. “Hey, angel. I bought some mulled wine from a weird lady selling it on the street. She said it is guaranteed to warm us up,” he added, producing a bottle from under his coat. He looked around, searching for Aziraphale. The weird lady had also promised the wine would spice the afternoon. Not a very good pun, in Crowley’s not so modest opinion.

“Crowley, is that you?” Aziraphale asked. Without waiting for an answer, he added, “Please come over here, I need some help!” Crowley followed Aziraphale’s voice to find the angel struggling to place a blue shiny ball the size of a mango on the upper part of what looked like a Christmas tree.

“Seriously, angel? Couldn’t you just miracle it?” Crowley said as he realised that it was, indeed, a Christmas tree. He whined and Aziraphale tutted in response.

“You know it wouldn’t be as fun,” Aziraphale said. “Now, be nice and help me put this right over there,” he added, pointing at one very specific branch.

“You could have miracled a ladder, you know?” Crowley complained. The demon took the ball from Aziraphale’s hand and put it exactly where the angel was pointing at. “There, can we go drink some wine now?” The demon had never been much of a fan of the Holidays and he was not starting now. Well, he had been a fan of the winter solstice and all the partying that came with it, but it then became something too serious, too grave. It brought him memories about a man who tried to make the world better and suffered for it just because it was part of Her plan. And anyway, the humans had spoiled it and made it all about consumerism and hideous family gatherings. He should have said it had been his idea, Hell might have liked that.

"Wait, it’s not finished yet.” Aziraphale went around the tree, squatted in an undignified way that made Crowley wince and look somewhere else and pressed a switch. The tree turned into a crazy swirl of lights of every color, little bulbs turning on and off intermittently in a frenetic dance. Crowley instinctively covered his eyes.

“Aziraphale, turn that thing off! I’m going blind looking at it!” the demon said. He considered miracling another pair of sunglasses on top of the ones he was already wearing.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Aziraphale scoffed as he stood up and turned around to admire his own work. “Oh,” he said. “It looks like I got a bit carried away”, he said and smiled apologetically.

“‘A bit’ is a bit of an understatement, angel,” Crowley said, still covering his eyes.

Aziraphale dismissed Crowley’s comment and snapped his fingers.“Much better, isn’t it?” Aziraphale said, pleased with the result. “Oh, dear, you can take your hands off your face now,” he scolded Crowley. The demon gradually put down his arms, still worried about his eyes, before he looked at the tree. About half of the lights had disappeared and the remaining ones had slowed their frenzied dance to a more soothing one. The tree was lush and it was all covered in blue, silver, tartan and cream balls with matching ribbons. The hanging bulbs now added a nice touch to it, slowly turning on and off at a mesmerizing pace that briefly hypnotised Crowley.

“Not bad, angel,” he said, escaping the captivating dance. “It’s a pity you cut down an entire tree just to cover it in ornaments for a few days and then tossing it. But it looks good, I’ll give you that.” He looked at Aziraphale and immediately regretted saying it. He could see how the angel had gone from the brightest smile to an upset frown.

“If you must know, I’m planning on taking it back to the forest and replanting it again, and it may take as many miracles as needed. I am well aware of the current state of the planet, thank you very much. And Crowley, honestly, you could let yourself enjoy things once in a while.” The angel looked to the tree again, arms crossed over his chest.

“I do enjoy things. I enjoy driving the Bentley, I enjoy yelling at my plants. I will enjoy this bottle of wine.” He wiggled the bottle he still had in his hand. Aziraphale looked at him sideways, then back at the tree and back at the demon. He uncrossed his arms, giving in.

“Oh, good Lord... Alright, let's try this.” Aziraphale took the bottle from Crowley’s hand and went looking for a corkscrew. The demon took off his coat, his gloves and his scarf and miracled away the soft cardigan he was also wearing underneath the coat. Too many layers were not fashionable, but even demons had survival instincts.

He sprawled on the couch and snapped his fingers, litting the chimney. He let out a content sigh, that was much better.

“Here you are, Crowley.” Aziraphale gave him a generous cup of the spiced wine and the demon took a sip. It was warm and nice (not that he would ever say that out loud), he could taste the cinnamon and the honey in it and some other spices he couldn’t quite place. It was oddly comforting and it helped him get rid of the remaining coldness in a whim. The angel sat across from him and hummed happily, taking in the scent that came from his own cup before having a taste of his own.

“Oh, this is lovely, Crowley,” Aziraphale said. “Where did you say you got it?” he asked as he looked for a label on the bottle. There was none.

“Dunno, some lady was selling it a few blocks from here. I thought you would like it, handmade and everything, so I bought it.” Crowley shrugged and took another sip. “She said it was a special batch.”

“I hope she will be making more special batches, then,” Aziraphale said. “It’s very Christmassy, don’t you think?” Another bit of wine and another pleased hum.

“It’s not very  _ Christmassy, _ ” Crowley answered. “Romans already had mulled wine back then and we both know they weren’t very fond of christians at the beginning”. He gulped what remained in his cup and poured himself another one.

“Crowley, whatever is the matter with you?” Aziraphale frowned. “I knew you were not very fond of the Holidays, but at least you could be kind enough not to ruin them for me,” he said and proceeded to take a long sip and frowned at his cup. “At least this wine is good. Do you know what’s in it? Perhaps I could try to do my own batch.”

“I’m not kind. I’m a demon. I do evil. ‘Cause I’m an evil demon,” Crowley said on pure instinct. “An evil demon who likes this wine,” he said and looked at his drink as well, feeling already a bit dizzier than expected.

“Alright, you’re a demon. That’s true. Not much we can do about it,right? But. May I say you are also wrong?” Aziraphale hiccupped. 

“Wrong? What do you mean,  _ wrong _ ?” Crowley said, pursing his lips as if the word taste funny.

“You, my dear fellow, are not evil,” Aziraphale smugly said. “In fact, you  _ are _ kind. I’ve always said that.” He raised his eyebrows, pleased with himself, and proceeded to finish his wine.

“Nggh, no I’m not. Stop saying I’m nice,” Crowley hissed. “Wait. No, actually, tell people that!” He sat up, sudden realization painted all over his face. Aziraphale saw for a fraction of a second a lightbulb switching on on top of Crowley’s head. 

“Wha-?” Aziraphale looked at him, puzzled.

“They’ll be easier to tempt! If they think I’m nice, right? But then I’m not,” the demon explained. “There they are, thinking, ‘this nice guy told me this other guy is also nice, I should ask him for advice on this stupid human problem’. And then, BAM!” He smacked the table. “I give them lousy advice and woops, there they go screwing up their lives!” He sat back again. “Oh, you genius bastard,” he said and tried to drink a bit more wine from an already empty cup. He growled and reached out for the bottle.

“What? Crowley, no,” Aziraphale whimpered in response. “You can’t do that! You can’t turn my good deeds into evil doings, that is not fair!”

“We already downed this?” Crowley moaned, ignoring the angel’s complaints. “Give me your cup, we’ll share what’s left.” He gestured with his hand. Aziraphale obliged and stretched a swaying arm. He frowned, trying to concentrate in keeping it steady while the demon managed to pour the spiced liquid. Crowley drained what was left directly from the bottle. 

“We should listen to some Christmas carols!” Aziraphale’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. He stood up.

“Nooo, nonono, no! Why do you even listen to that?” Crowley said as he followed Aziraphale to the gramophone. “What’s next? The Sound of Music?” He looked over the angel’s shoulder, trying to see what he was looking for.

“Oh, shush. I’m playing something modern so you can enjoy it too.” Crowley could hear the smuginess in his voice even though he could not see Aziraphale’s face from where he was standing. 

Cheerful bells started sounding with an upbeat rhythm.

“Are you kidding me!?” Crowley started to complain as soon as he heard the first note.

“Will you just give it a second, you impatient… thing?” Aziraphale tutted with a smirk. He closed his eyes, oscillating where he was standing. It was not clear if it was the wine or if he was dancing. Probably the wine, angels don’t dance after all.

A woman’s voice started singing.

_ I just want you for my own _

_ More than you could ever know _

_ Make my wish come true _

_ All I want for Christmas is you _

The angel still had his eyes closed and was humming along the melody as Crowley watched him in disbelief with the angel and with himself. They stayed that way until the song finished.

“Play it again.” Crowley’s mouth traitorously betrayed him. The lyrics had resonated with him and he wanted to listen to them once more.

“Sorry, what?” Aziraphale opened his eyes and tried to focus his eyes on Crowley.

“I… wouldliketohearitagain,” said Crowley as fast as possible and then closed his lips. Aziraphale smirked and, knowing better than making any remarks, played the song again. Crowley could see the angel trying to look him in the eye, past his sunglasses. He tried to play it cool, but miserably failed as his foot started tapping at the beat of the song. This was, Crowley realised to his own dismay, one of those many things he hated loving.

Perhaps it was the wine, or maybe the mulling - Crowley made a mental note to have a word with the weird lady - but he couldn’t help himself and asked Aziraphale to play it again. And again. And once more, just in case. And so he did.

Soon enough they were both singing along, freshly opened bottles of wine, Crowley’s arm over Aziraphale’s shoulders, Aziraphale’s arm over Crowley’s hip, both moving around the shop.

“This song is  _ awesome _ ! Angel, I need a CD for the Bentley,” Crowley said in between replays. “Well, not the Bentley, of course. For my place. 

By the time they had finished that second bottle of wine and an additional scotch one, they were both standing in front of the Christmas tree, leaning on the other for precarious balance. Aziraphale looked at it. “Don’t you think there is something missing?” he slurred.

“Uh… Dunno, what do you mean?” Crowley swayed forward and took off his sunglasses to examine it more closely. “Looks alright to me” he shrugged, and put them back on.

“Would you be a lovely fiend and bring me the leaflet that is over there?” Aziraphale vaguely gestured towards the backroom. “On top of my desk?” he added. Reluctantly, Crowley disentangled himself and came back after a few minutes with a Christmas pamphlet showcasing a huge Christmas tree. “Thanks, dear.” The angel took it, put on his glasses and started comparing the picture to the tree standing before him. “Oh, right! How could I forget?” he bursted and put a hand on his forehead. “Look, Crowley! It’s missing the angel on top of it!” Crowley looked at the photograph Aziraphale was showing him.

“How could you forget the angel topper? You  _ are _ an angel,” he said.

“I don’t know…” Aziraphale moaned. “I guess I could go and buy one, the shops should still be open.” Aziraphale reached for his coat, stumbling on his way.

“Angel!” Crowley followed him, concerned. “It’s freezing out there and you’re in no condition to go outside. No, sir,” he said as he gestured with his finger. “It’s more sensible to stay here right next to the fireplace and drink some more wine. And be  _ warm. _ ” There was no way Crowley was going to leave the comfort of the bookshop to buy a Christmas tree ornament, of all things.

“But… It won’t be complete. And- and even if I’m not looking at it I still would know,” the angel said and pouted.

“Well, we could…” An idea was forming in Crowley’s head at a slower pace than usual. He opened and closed his mouth a few times. “You could  _ be _ the angel topper!” he said as he spread his arms like he was presenting the idea of the century.

“I’m sorry, what?” Aziraphale scrunched up his face, not understanding what Crowley was suggesting.

“You could be the angel topper,” Crowley said. “Think about it! You could... shrink yourself. And then fly to the top and sit there.” He pointed at the top of the tree. “So you have a complete Christmas tree  _ and  _ we stay indoors.” Crowley smiled, pleased with his own idea. “I will take a picture for you so you can see how it looks.”

Aziraphale hesitated.

“It  _ is _ a good idea. Me, an angel topper,” he said after a moment. “I could wear the same gown I was wearing when we were in Eden! I’ll look quite charming, don’t you think?” Aziraphale beamed. “And I know they say ‘don’t drink and fly’, but it’s been a while since I last stretched my wings. Crowley, you beautiful, creative demon!” The angel was now glowing with excitement and took Crowley by both sides of his head to place a loud kiss on his forehead. “Right, how should we do this?” He looked around himself. “Uhm, you should turn around, Crowley. I will change my clothes and then I will fly to the top of the tree. I will tell you when you can look so it will be a surprise!”

“Why does it need to be a surprise, though? It was my idea,” Crowley complained as he turned his back to Aziraphale and the tree. “It’s not like I have never seen you in your Eden clothes,” he sighed. Crowley heard the unmistakable chime of a miracle and then some arrhythmic wing flutter. “Can I see already?”

“Just a moment, please. I- It’s hard to stand here, the branch is not very steady.” Aziraphale’s voice came from a higher point than before. There was some ruffle.

“Oh, of course, it’s the branch’s fault. Nothing to do with those empty bottles over there.” He heard Aziraphale let a guilty giggle escape.

“Alright, Crowley, you may look now,” he said once he felt safe enough.

Crowley turned around to see a miniature Aziraphale wearing an equally tiny white gown, wings spread open, on top of the tree. He was beaming and somehow he had managed to stay stable. The light was hitting him just right to make his hair look like a halo and he had placed his hands in front of him as if he were praying.

“Look at you! You look... very angel-ly,” the demon managed. “I will take the picture and then we can move on with our lives right next to the fire.” He pulled out his phone from his back pocket.

“Alright, say ‘crepes’!”

“Crepes!” Aziraphale struck his best innocent praying angel.

“Ok, picture taken. Could you please get down here now?” 

“Just a second, Crowley. My clothes are tangled up in something.” Aziraphale was pulling at his robes, trying to free himself. One unfortunate jerk made him lost his balance, tripping over the hem and falling. Crowley felt how time slowed on its own, no miracles required, and jumped ahead, stretching out his arms to catch the falling angel. His right foot kicked a loose piece of the carpet and he fell face first on the ground, a thud that shook the Christmas tree and all its ornaments. 

Crowley stayed there, forehead to the floor and arms reaching forward for a few moments. He trying to assess the damage.

“Phew, that was close. Thank you, Crowley.” Aziraphale stood up on the demon’s hands, which had managed to catch him mid-fall. “Are you alright, dear?” he asked, as the demon hadn’t moved an inch.

“Ngk,” he mumbled. Crowley felt Aziraphale getting out of his hand, and a small breeze indicating the angel had returned to his usual size. He also heard Aziraphale make that particular noise that indicated he had sobered up. Probably a good thing to do.

“Here, let me help you.” The angel guided Crowley to a sitting position. The demon refused to open his eyes. Perhaps if he remained this way he wouldn’t have to look at the angel in the eye ever again and thus preserve the remains of his dignity. “You don’t look injured, are you feeling alright? Is there anything I can do to help?” Aziraphale was close and, even though his eyes were shut, Crowley could see the angel’s worried face, examining him for any possible wounds. He flinched when Aziraphale took off his glasses without warning.

“Sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to scare you, but these are shattered. I was afraid you could cut yourself,” Aziraphale said. Crowley finally opened his eyes and Aziraphale briefly smiled.

“I’m alright,” he gestured in front of him to shoo the angel away. “I think… Ugh, I think I might as well head home.” Aziraphale backed up just enough to give Crowley enough room to stand up and hovered around him, not sure the demon would be able to do it on his own. 

“I don’t think you’re in good condition to go outside, Crowley. Please be reasonable, you just hit your head.” Aziraphale’s face was nothing but worry. “Just sit on the sofa, I will bring you some tea. Perhaps you should consider sobering up as well.” Crowley moaned at that but followed some of the instructions. He could feel his head starting to pound and a dull ache growing right above his left brow and decided not to sober up just yet. The hangover would not help with the pain. He closed his eyes and groaned.

Aziraphale fussed around him for a bit.

“Here you go, Crowley. Please put this on your forehead and drink this.” The angel handed Crowley a bag of frozen peas and a cup of tea. The demon took both and did as instructed. Next, Aziraphale covered him with a blanket. “Now, you should lie down and have some rest. I’ll stay here in case you need anything.” The demon layed down and made a noise of weak complaint. The room was spinning around him but sleep caught up with him soon enough.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally way angstier, but it didn't suit at all the tone set in the first one. As I was running out of time, I settled for this. Even though it's not as fluffy and silly as the first one, I think it's a nice wrap up.

For just one fraction of a second, the world was warm and smooth. No imperfections to it, just a beautiful nothing surrounding it all. Peaceful.

Then a pounding ache somewhere he couldn’t quite place invaded it, followed by… nausea? What a moment ago was a soothing white noise suddenly became an unsettling mix of car horns, chatter, motors and someone humming a Christmas song. Crowley’s brain automatically added the lyrics to it. He growled, rolled to his side and covered his eyes with his arm.

“Oh, are you awake already?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley opened his mouth to speak but it felt like a shoe sole, dry and plainly awful. “Here, you should have some water. It will help,” Aziraphale said. 

Crowley opened his eyes and turned around. He was no longer wearing his sunglasses, probably Aziraphale had taken them off while he was asleep. 

The angel was bent over him, looking worried and offering him a glass of water. Crowley momentarily worried about having hangover breath. Not that he had experienced one of those, but he had heard they were hideous. As discreetly as possible, he snapped his fingers to make sure this was not a first for him.

“How are you feeling, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, touching the demon’s forehead with the back of his hand. Crowley widened his eyes at the unexpected touch but didn’t move. “It doesn’t seem you’re feverish, so that is good,” Aziraphale said after a moment. “You should have some water,” he repeated. Crowley slowly got up and felt his heartbeat pounding in his head. He groaned and took the glass the angel was offering.

“Thanks,” Crowley said with a raspy voice once he had downed the entire glass.

“You can lay down again, dear,” Aziraphale gently pushed him back and covered him again with a blanket. Crowley offered no resistance but kept looking at the angel, still not knowing what to expect. This was certainly new.

“You’re taking care of me,” Crowley said, more an observation than a question. Aziraphale stopped tucking him in and looked at him for a second before continuing.

“You hurt yourself, Crowley. Of course I am,” he said.

“Yeah, but… why?”

That question made Aziraphale back up a little.

“Oh, I- well, you were saving me. It just seemed the right thing to do,” he said and paused for a moment. “I hope I’m not making you uncomfortable?” Aziraphale then asked in a high pitched voice. Crowley saw his throat wobble. 

“No, no. Nothing like that. The opposite, actually,” Crowley quickly said. “This is very comfortable, now that you ask,” he added, awkwardly patting the soft blanket. He drew what he hoped was a reassuring smile. 

“Oh, good… I’m glad, Crowley. I just… I think you have saved me from so many unpleasant circumstances throughout the years and I never got to repay you,” Aziraphale said. He sat on the edge of the sofa, next to Crowley, nervously wriggling his hands. “And just today you got hurt once more trying to save me from my own foolishness. It seemed like I it was a nice chance to start paying you back.”

“Paying me back? Angel,” Crowley sat up too quickly for his headache but he ignored it. “I didn’t do it so you would pay me back,” he said, grimacing to that nonsense. “I did it because that’s what… partners do. Favours for each other. Saving each other’s lives... I know you would’ve done the same for me,” Crowley said.

Aziraphale, who had been focusing on his fiddling hands, looked back at him.

“I guess I would have…” he agreed. At times he doubted it, he was sure he wouldn’t have recognised it for a long time. “It’s just… I know I haven’t been nice to you most of the time but you have always been to me and I… Well, I feel like I owe you. Excessively so,” Aziraphale sighed and stopped twisting his hands.

“Angel, listen,” Crowley said and took his hands to make sure he had his full attention. “You don’t owe me  _ anything _ . I did all those things because I wanted to. Because I cared for you,” Crowley said. “Because I care for you,” he added, emphasising his words by softly stroking Aziraphale’s hands.

“You do?” Aziraphale looked… hopeful. And it pained Crowley that he would even question it.

“Yes!” he said. “Wasn’t it clear all this time?” he asked.

“No, not really… Crowley, I’m sorry. I’m such a fool,” Aziraphale said. He removed his hands from Crowley. “I thought you were just protecting your interests. If- if I went down, you and the arrangement would go down with me. I thought for so long that you… And then you...” Aziraphale covered his eyes with his hands before finishing the sentence, clearly irritated.

The demon could perfectly empathise with the angel. Frustration was a bitch, he should know. He tried a timid and awkward pat on the shoulder.

“Aziraphale, I…” he tried. Damn words, too many things to say at once. “Please don’t get mad,” he managed as he started to be angry at himself. Crowley gently pulled him from his elbow, making Aziraphale look at him.

“I’m not mad, Crowley… I’m disappointed in myself,” Aziraphale murmured. “I’m supposed to be the nice one and yet I hurt you so many times…” he said. “I hurt you when I said I didn’t like you, I hurt you when I refused to go to Alpha Centauri with you, I hurt you when I didn’t tell you I discovered where Adam was,” Aziraphale let out a frustrated groan as Crowley made note of that last bit - what did he mean he hadn’t told him about Adam? -. “And when I try to amend it,” Aziraphale continued, “I make it worse!” he said as he noticed Crowley’s confused frown. “I’m doing it again, I- I can’t even get  _ this  _ right.” Aziraphale stood up, leaving a very noticeable emptiness behind him. The angel started walking up and down the room.

“What are you going on about?” Crowley asked, worried but still not knowing what this conversation was heading to. “You’re not hurting me,” he said, following Aziraphale’s nervous pace. “I- listen, you don’t have to repay me. I did it for free. My treat!” Crowley insisted, trying to smile. “Please, angel,” he repeated, and Aziraphale stopped moving.

He was now just plainly standing there, so he tugged his sleeve trying to make him sit down again, trying to obtain any reaction from him. His head pounded, but he dismissed it. “We can work this out, you and me. Together,” Crowley said. He felt foolish, half laid down on the sofa, with the blanket still covering his legs, pulling Aziraphale’s sleeve like a kid asking their parent for sweets, begging for something he knew he shouldn’t have.

They stayed like that for too many seconds for Crowley to count.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale finally muttered and sat down where he had been what seemed a century earlier. “I have this… tendency to hurt you. I’ve seen it, I’m seeing it,” he said. “And you keep saving me and helping me and… spoiling me,” Aziraphale raised an eyebrow as if pointing at something Crowley didn’t quite grasp. “And I can’t keep going like this...” Aziraphale sighed. “It’s so unfair, Crowley. I can’t do that to someone I love.”

Crowley’s heart was thumping, deafening him with a rough pounding. All the noise in the street, the Christmas carolers, the families going about, the car engines,... It all seemed to have been muted. He swallowed, not knowing what to say.

He had assumed that Aziraphale loved him, just like he loved everything, and he knew he liked him, he could tell that much. But even for Crowley’s hungover mind, it was clear that this meant something else. Something it might be worth taking a risk for.

Something he had not dared to hope for.

“Angel…” he finally said. He tried to swallow the weird knot that was forming in his throat. Crowley reached out to stroke Aziraphale’s cheek, hand slightly shaking. He let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding as the angel leaned in to the touch. Crowley could see that Aziraphale’s brain was working at a thousand miles per hour, just like Crowley’s was.

“Crowley, I...” Aziraphale said in a strangled voice as he grasped Crowley by the wrist. Crowley wasn’t sure about the angel’s intentions, but he wasn’t willing to miss his opportunity. He moved forward, his hand still on Aziraphale’s cheek, and kissed him. Deeply. Tenderly. Lovingly. It tasted of years of frustration and yearning and pining.

Eventually, Aziraphale broke the kiss. He raised his hand a placed it in Crowley’s neck, resting their foreheads together. He chuckled softly and shook his head in disbelief. “Crowley...” Aziraphale said. He briefly kissed Crowley again. “Frankly, I… You can’t expect to do this and not have me surrendered. You know I’m  _ soft _ ,” he said and chuckled again. “I honestly, hopefully wish you will be able to forgive me for being such a fool.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, angel,” Crowley replied. “Not if you stay. Here with me. Kissing me,” Crowley cheekily said and stroked Aziraphale’s face with his thumb. “You do realise that I didn’t believe you when you told me you didn’t like me at the bandstand, right?” he said, chuckling.

“You do know me too well, don’t you?” the angel giggled, blushing a bit as he leaned in once more to kiss the demon. “I promise I will make it up to you, if you will let me. Whatever it is you need, Crowley... I love you.”

Crowley’s heart fluttered and he tried taking a deep breath. 

“Did- did I say something wrong? I’m sorry, I’m-”

“No, you didn’t,” Crowley cut him and chuckled. “It’s a happy sigh, angel,” Crowley said. “You’re not hurting me, you see? You’re making me happy. Like you always have.” Crowley let out a soft laugh, still not sure if this was real but determined to take the most out of it, before kissing Aziraphale again. It no longer tasted of longing, but of hope and bliss. Crowley’s lips curved into a smile and thought he would listen to as many Christmas songs and help the angel decorate as many trees as needed as long as he got to keep kissing those sweet lips.

They eventually stopped to catch their breaths, so to speak. In reality, their brains were claiming a moment to catch up with everything that was happening. 

Crowley was the first one to speak.

“So you love me, eh?” he teased.

“I do. I love you, Crowley,” Aziraphale smirked.

Before the angel could ask, Crowley answered, “I love you too, angel. Always have”. They kissed again, briefly. “If I’m honest, I’m surprised you didn’t know. Aren’t you supposed to feel when you’re surrounded by love?”

“Oh, quite right. About that,” Aziraphale stepped back just enough to properly see Crowley’s face. “I did feel it. I’m feeling it now,” he said and took Crowley’s hand in his and pulled it close to his chest, “but I never thought it was for me,” he said, drawing the littlest of smiles. “It didn’t make sense to me at first, couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from. It does happen sometimes,” Aziraphale shrugged. “By the time I realised it was coming from you, I already knew how much you loved humanity and Earth and thought that was it, that it was never for me. And then, when you saved me and my books from the bomb, I realised that I had fallen in love with you. Not in that moment, but long before. I don’t even know when, but it certainly wasn’t new. So that made me think that, perhaps, all the love I thought had been yours for the Earth was actually mine for you…” Aziraphale smiled apologetically. “It seemed quite logical at the moment.”

“Angel…” Crowley said and, when words abandoned him once more, he hugged Aziraphale. He buried his nose in the white curls and inhaled, taking in everything he could. This was different from kissing, but it felt just as good, something they could do until the next Holidays came around. “It was always me. I always loved you and I always will.”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by my own silly tweet imagining Aziraphale as the angel at the top of my Christmas tree. 
> 
> This fic was made a hundred times better by the sweet, lovely @ineffablepotato, so please go thank her on Twitter. She the best.
> 
> (I just hope I'm not late to the holidays spirit with this one but, if I am, it's ok because I had so much fun with it that it has already been worth it).


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